


Mission Accomplished

by alynwa



Series: Picfic Tuesday Challenge [65]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1546598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon and Illya attend a party to save an Innocent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission Accomplished

 

The party was in full swing. It was being thrown by Sheik Mohammed Al – Farsi bin Baqir, or as his Western friends called him, “Ham.” When he was home in Saudi Arabia, he was the epitome of an upstanding Prince of the Realm. But he wasn’t in Saudi Arabia, he was in England at his estate in Rochdale, north of Manchester and when Ham was in England, he was the ultimate party giver. Invitations to his soirees were coveted by everyone who was anyone not only in the United Kingdom, but also France, Spain and West Germany.

The best musicians, the most sumptuous food, the most expensive liquors, wines and beers, the most beautiful people were staples of his parties. All of Ham’s parties would start early in the evening and last until the sun rose the next morning. One of the fabulous things one could always count on at his parties would be the Midnight Entertainment. Past parties at midnight had revealed the Rat Pack, Siegfried and Roy with three of their white tigers and Marianne Faithful accompanying herself on the piano.

Illya and Napoleon, resplendent in custom – made tuxedoes, strolled around the party with champagne flutes in hand, smiling and making small talk with other guests. Occasionally, they would both ask a woman to dance when the music slowed to a “dancing cheek to cheek” pace. Napoleon, as always, would choose a gorgeous blonde to regale with his charming patter while he pumped her for information about their host and the layout of the estate. Illya tended to dance with the older women in the crowd, some of whom had been on the European social circuit for decades. Illya would become so attentive to them as they danced, they gladly answered the questions of the stunningly handsome blond man who seemed to hang on their every word.

“That woman I danced with earlier, Lady Smythe, told me that she found out the circuit breakers for the mansion are off the pantry at the rear of the kitchen,” Illya confided to his partner when they met up again.

“Really?" Napoleon mused, “And how did that happen to come up in the conversation?”

“Because,” the Russian replied as he turned slightly pink, “she wanted to take me in there for some…private dancing. Women today…they are very forward.”

Napoleon laughed and clapped the smaller man on the shoulder. “I’ve told you before, old ladies and cats think you are the bee’s knees! Finding the location was easier than I thought.” Leaning in closer he said, “Fatima starts dancing at midnight and she’ll be finished by twelve – ten. I’ll cut the estate’s power at twelve – twelve. Her instructions are to make sure she is in front of you at that time.”

Illya patted his jacket pocket. “I will put on my night vision glasses, grab Fatima and then exit through the rear exit. Mark and April will be waiting just on the other side of the wall with the car. If all goes according to plan, we will be at the car no later than twelve twenty – five.”

“I’ll stay behind to keep up appearances and leave around six.”

“I hope things go as planned or you may be putting yourself in danger.”

“Don’t worry about me, Tovarisch. Just make sure _you_ do your part; Mr. Waverly made it clear that Dr. Wizeer refuses to divulge his research he’s been doing for THRUSH until we deliver his daughter to the New York office. Her boyfriend is only allowing her out of Arabia because Ham asked personally for her to perform tonight and insured that she would be returned immediately after her performance. She’s the most famous belly dancer in the country; it would be a loss of face for Ham is she defects on his watch. He’s got a lot to lose.”

Illya checked his watch. “It is eleven forty. Mark.”

Napoleon synchronized his watch. “See you later. Good luck.” He turned in the direction of a young lady he had danced and flirted with earlier. He moved closer with a smile on his face and whispered in her ear. She began to giggle as she nodded her head and placed her arm in his. They began to walk in the direction of the kitchen.

The Russian shook his head and headed toward the dance floor. People had begun to jockey for prime viewing of the floor as they knew that was where the entertainment would be. Illya knew he wanted to stand as close to the rear exit as possible, but also where Fatima could see and recognize him. He saw Lady Smythe standing in the ideal place. He went to stand by her side, leaned closer and asked, “Do you mind if I stand next to you?”

She turned her wrinkled countenance to him and smiled. “My dear boy, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Look, the lights are starting to dim.”

In the dark, Illya could just make out two figures heading to the middle of the floor. One figure, larger than the other, moved away while the remaining figure struck a pose. The lights came back up to reveal Fatima, standing barefoot in a red ankle length skirt trimmed off in gold and slit up the side to dangerous heights. She also work a brocade bra of gold and red. There was a round of applause and then the music began to play and Fatima began to undulate across the floor.

People were mesmerized by the movements of her body. Even Illya watched in appreciation of the dance form. She was telling a story that kept escalating as the music built; her body moving faster, the gestures getting bigger until finally, she collapsed to the floor as the music reached its crescendo. There wasn’t a sound for a few seconds and then the audience burst into loud applause interspersed with shouts of “Brava!” and “Magnificent!”

Lady Smythe had just turned to Illya to comment on the brilliance of the performance when the entire estate was plunged into darkness. Immediately whipping on his glasses, Illya reached out and grabbed Fatima’s hand. “We have to go!” he whispered urgently and was relieved that Fatima immediately began to move along with him. They were able to slip through the confused crowd easily as he was the only one who could truly see in the dark. Behind them, they could hear Ham telling everyone to remain calm, the backup generators would be kicking in momentarily.

Once they got a little distance away Illya said, “Do not worry, Fatima. Your father will be happy to see you.”

“And I, him,” she replied, “Mr. Kuryakin, I presume?”

“Yes.” They exited the back door and began to run toward the estate’s wall. “My friends are waiting for us on the other side.”

Meanwhile, Napoleon and his conquest were making love in the back of the pantry. He had managed to manipulate his coupling so that her back “accidentally” knocked out the power as he held her up against the wall. He kept thrusting even though he could hear footsteps approaching. He had so aroused his partner that she heard nothing except the sounds of her own moaning. Only the rays of flashlights stopped them.

“Ohmigod!” she screamed as she pushed him away and tried to make herself presentable while Napoleon pulled up his pants.

“It would seem,” Ham said, “that your tryst has interrupted our soiree. I hope you don’t mind, but we need to get to the circuit breakers.”

Napoleon smiled the smile of the caught in the act. “Don’t mind us. We can move our party anywhere.”

Ham returned the smile as he flipped switches. “Not a problem.” Just then, one of his staff came and whispered something in his ear. “Idiot!” he exclaimed, “She’s trying to escape! Loose the dogs! Now!”

Napoleon thought, _Dogs?_

Illya and Fatima were halfway across the lawn to the wall when they began to hear barking from the other side of the property. “Hurry!” Illya cried as he pulled her along, “We have to get to the wall!” They made it to the base and Illya put his two hands together to form a step. Fatima put her left foot on it and jumped up to the top of the eight foot wall. She flattened herself on it and reached down.

“Take my hand!”

Illya ran back and took a running leap to grab her just as the dogs made their way to their location. He was almost on top when one of the dogs grabbed his leg and began yanking him back down. “Bozhe moy! Bozhe moy! Let me go! Get to my friends!”

Suddenly, he heard the _phhht_ of a Walther spitting a sleep dart. He felt the jaws of the animal loosen and release his leg.

“C’mon, Mate. We ‘ave to go!”

As the Russian continued his climb over the wall he said, “Mark, I owe you a pint of whatever you’re drinking.” They jumped down and got into the car where Fatima was pulling on pants and a shirt that April had given her.

“Come, Darlings,” she said, “We have to get Fatima on her way.”

As they drove away, Illya hoped that his partner would be alright.

Napoleon and his companion, along with the other guests, milled around aimlessly as the power was restored and things got back to “normal.” He knew that his host was aware that the entertainment had made an unexpected exit, but he was impressed with how calm his demeanor remained. “I am so sorry for that little glitch,” Ham said from the DJ’s booth, “I think the problem has been resolved so please, continue to enjoy yourselves.”

The music started up again, the drinks began to flow and Napoleon did his best to look like he was the Ultimate Hedonist as he worked very hard to get his sex partner to go to another secluded area of the mansion so they could continue their fun. As he hoped, she was embarrassed enough not to take his offer, but he continued to make what anyone else would think was a “good faith” offer to be her companion. When he finally “gave up,” he went to the bar to get another drink. As he sipped, he sensed someone approaching.

“Navarre, isn’t it?”

He turned around to see Ham standing there. “Yes! Thanks again for the invitation.”

“No worries, Navarre. Your cousin is a good friend of mine; I was glad to pass his invitation along to you when he said he couldn’t make it. I do have a question, though. That thin blond man you were speaking with earlier? Do you know him?”

“Eddie? Yes, not well, but he’s a musician. Sometimes, he plays in Liverpool at that new club, The Cavern? That’s where I met him. In fact, I’m meeting him there Sunday night. You’re welcome to join me, if you like.”

“I’d like that, Navarre. Very much. I would like to get to know him better.”

_Two days later…_

Mr. Waverly puffed on his pipe as he looked at his two top teams seated in front of him. The CEA in his usual seat with his partner seated to his right and Mark Slate seated to his right and his partner, April Dancer, to his right.

“People, your teamwork not only resulted in the rescue of Miss Fatima Wizeer from a life of servitude at the hands of her boyfriend, but assured her father that UNCLE keeps its word. The information he imparted to us is invaluable in our fight against THRUSH. Good work, all of you.”

“Thank you, Sir,” they replied in unison.

“Very good, then. Dismissed.”

The four rose as one and, with Napoleon in the lead, made their way of his office. When they reached the elevator bank April said, “I think if the Old Man were effusive in his praise, I would keel over."

Napoleon grinned, “That _was_ the Old Man being effusive. Good job, everyone."

 

 


End file.
